


"That is what psychologists advice"

by shyomegagirl



Series: the neverending toxic love [2]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Maybe a bit of humor, No Angst, this wont get as dark as the first one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-20 01:05:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15522675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyomegagirl/pseuds/shyomegagirl
Summary: "...it is important to remember that psychopathic individuals are like anyone else; they too deserve the right to be befriended, loved, and admired. If a psychopathic individual receives psychotherapy, they are capable of gaining control over their own deviant behavior, allowing them to lead a healthy and positive life."or that one fic where they try to go on dates and everything is as fine as it can go.





	1. the first

There is a number of things Eve enjoins in her day-to-day routine these days.  
One of them is seeing this little sneaky cat break into her neighbors’ house and leave it with a huge grin on his face… maybe the last part is just Eve’s wild imagination, but she does not give it much thought.  
The other one is chit chatting with her colleagues during the lunch… a habit their boss does not enjoy so much, but nonetheless, says nothing bad about.  
And the last one Eve can think of, is laying in front of TV with a huge basket of popcorn and watching some comedy show or a film, or series, or anything. She just lets herself relax fully and does not care about much else.  
She is on her way from work, looking around and noticing just how many enjoyable things there are in the world.  
Eve let her fear dictate her life, she let it break her character, she let it ruin her marriage, her friendships… But these times are long gone. Eve is another person right now.  
She even tried going shopping once, and it was awkward and gave her a terrible head-ache, but at the end, she now has a more interesting wardrobe… at least, her co-workers noticed the change and said something alike to “You, Eve, look just gor-ge-ous”.  
The change feels nice.

And then, there is a thing that Eve is almost sure does not fit in in her daily routine. She is almost sure that this is some bad joke fate keeps playing on her.  
Her nostrils are the first to catch the intruder’s smell, elegant and risky, and anything but what Eve needs right now. There is this delicate smile, cocky and so not sincere, but the one Eve falls for every damn time.  
Villanelle stares back at her.

“I heard a rumor that you were divorced and I wanted to give you my condolences,” she says. The look that Villanelle gives Eve pierces right through her, but Eve does not allow herself to break. She looks right back, with just as much passion and danger.  
Eve carries a gun, these days. Right in her purse.  
It was hell of a job to get a license, but now she has.  
She feels the power. She has _the power_.

“Well, this is very thoughtful of you,” Eve replies, with a polite, yet just as non-genuine smile. Villanelle must notice it, for she now is on the edge of laughing, and this time, it looks real and dangerous. 

They are back to playing this game.  
Eve has a desperate desire to fish the gun out of her purse, and aim it at Villanelle’s head, pull the trigger, and get back to her normal life, but she does not.  
She stays still, her hands relaxed, and waits for Oksana to do the talking. Villanelle likes it when she is in charge, so why not let her own the game?

Oksana looks better than when she saw her the last time. She clearly made an effort to impress Eve, and that thought makes something warm up in woman’s chest. She does not linger on this thought for long, though.  
Villanelle’s hair is tamed into simple, yet elegant braids, and her figure hides behind silk-stocking costume, the one that looks familiar to what she wore the night she killed Bill. Though the colors are less bright and noticeable.  
Eve figures that she likes the way Oksana looks today. 

The girl gives Eve’s clothes a quick look, too, and whatever thoughts exist in Villanelle’s mind are impossible to be read right now. Her expression is blank, and it reminds Eve of… “No, pull it together, Eve, and do not let the girl get to your head _again_ ,” she repeats like a mantra. 

Oksana has something in her hands, and when Eve notices what it is, she blushes, internally and physically and just… uhhh… _flowers_? There is a dozen of pink flowers, and it is so not Villanelle, but somehow matches her just great. 

Eve wills herself to stop thinking of it, either. 

“I thought we could go and cerebrate,” Oksana suggests. Nothing in her body moves except for her lips when she speaks, and it is just incredible and fascinating, and something that Eve surely does not need to think of.  
“To where?”  
“Oh, I know just a place a few quartiles away, they have delicious lobster linguine,” she stands up from the porch, and makes her way towards Eve.  
They are too close right now, too close for Eve to feel comfortable and at ease. The smell of La Villanelle is clouding her thinking, just for a moment, but this is enough to break her facade and give Oksana exactly what she wants.  
The girl smiles at her inability to answer, and she looks just as satisfied as the cat that keeps getting away with sneaking into the neighbors’ house. Eve must give that boy out and also, she has to start thinking like a grown-up that she is.  
Eve stills herself, and in a moment, all her senses are back to normal.

“I suggest we go now, then, if you are not waiting for anyone else to join us,” she says, and bites the insides of her cheek to not ruin anything… It hurts, but the pain is nothing when Oksana smiles at her like she accepts the challenge, like she thinks of Eve as her equal and not a toy to be playing with around.  
“No, I don’t want anyone to interrupt our _date_.”  
“Good, me neither.”

 

Oksana is watching her with a piercing gaze, once again, and something in this just makes Eve blunt, but not impolite, so…  
“May I?” Eve asks before taking her arm, and leading her towards the road.  
The texture of Oksana’s suit feels nice, and the distance between them is close to non-existent, and neighbors give her a damn look of disapproval (which is something they should feel sorry about, because now Eve is going to sic some more cats on them out of sheer spite), and all of this does not make sense, until Oksana lets out that little half-giggle/half-awe, and it feels surreal, and they both did not expect this coming… but… Eve feels how power fills her up, and it is not even from the knowledge that she owns a gun that lays deep inside her purse, no.  
That is the knowledge that Oksana, being a devil she is, a psychopath and a murderer, feels _it_ , too. 

 

Minutes pass without them saying a word.  
Sometimes, Eve feels, like Oksana is on edge of letting out something big, something terrific or, maybe, terrifying, but all of Eve’s excitement seeps away when she does not.  
“You should probably give me the flowers,” she says, when they narrow the corner of the street.  
“Why?”  
“Uh, uh, I just… figured… since it is a _date_ …”  
“Well, I knew you would not bother getting me flowers, so I got them myself,” Oksana replies, her cocky smile back in the game. “Although if you want to carry them for me… you know, I have already got bored of the smell, so yeah…” she is not gracious in her movements, shoving the bouquet into Eve’s free hand without much care.  
It makes the woman smile, though.  
“Thank you,” she says, noticing how it makes Oksana feel just a little less cocky than usual. Her smile becomes more natural, and it frightens Eve that she loses herself yet again.  
She should stop giving everything a second thought.  
There is nothing in Oksana that is real.  
She wears a facade and Eve is foolish to think that under one mask is not laying another one.  
That girl is danger, and nothing else.  
“You’re welcome,” Oksana’s voice is soft, and it makes Eve wonder, what kind of game are they playing now? In the end, it does not really matter.  
Even though Eve carries a gun around with herself, it is Oksana who can kill her with just a glance, if she wants. 

 

The place Oksana leads her towards is on one of the busiest streets in London, but surprisingly at the moment, it is deserted. There is music coming out of the window, and a big Rock&Roll sign on the door, and Eve thinks that Oksana must be joking if she thinks that a bar like this one is suitable for their date!  
Then, when Oksana walks from that place towards another, with fancy looking door, Eve quickly regrets it. She is in no way looking good enough for such a place.  
The door swings open by Oksana’s hand, and the girl wears her most polite smile ever, and Eve figures that being chivalrous suits her well, even if it is just for the sake of show.  
They make their way towards receptionist, and it seems that Oksana has already booked a table, which is nice, and also, creepy.  
Some people look at them, with their gazes full of curiosity and judgment, and Eve stirs under the pressure. She feels out of place and a steel grip of Oksana’s hand does nothing to make it better. It only worsens the situation.  
They must look really strange to the outsiders, she - a middle aged unstylish woman - and Oksana - pretty girl in a costume that costs more than all of Eve’s wardrobe - in a restaurant together, with their hands intertwined.  
For a moment Eve wishes they knew the story behind them, she wants to scream at their faces that there is a perfect explanation to why she got divorced with Niko, why her life scrambled to pieces and why she was even at the restaurant with a girl who could have well been her daughter.  
But then Eve actually listens to herself and knows: they will only judge her more.  
And oh, they will definitely call the police. 

They pass some old lady, who, and it is hard to believe in it at first, winks at them. Oksana replies with a wink of her own, and that gets a laugh out of woman. Eve can hear her mutter something alike to, “Ahh, sweet youth,” but she does not have much time to proceed.  
The next room they come into is practically unlit, with only candles on the tables and the absence of electricity quite visible. There is a boy, at the centre of the room, with a cello, and judging by the look on his face, he gives all of himself to the music.  
Oksana lets them enjoy it for a little while, and then tugs on Eve’s hand and they are walking towards the most deserted part of the restaurant.  
They sit, and the darkness of the room makes Eve feel a lot more at ease. There is no one around them to judge her looks, which is a good adjustment to letting her feel good.  
There is no one there to keep Oksana at bay and not let her kill Eve, which is not as good, but at the same time, people have not been exactly problematic for her back in Moscow.  
Eve wills herself to relax.

She glances at Oksana, who is as nonchalant as ever, already looking through the menu, her eyes fast and it seems, as if with each glance she memorizes the words… Or it’s just the romantic atmosphere that makes Eve think that way.  
A waiter is quick to follow them, bringing some expensive wine to the table. He waits till Oksana opens her mouth to order, and she is speaking with such an amazing British accent, that Eve, a person who lived here for a good amount of… how many years? could never pull of.  
“And for the lady?”  
The waiter is now waiting for her to answer, and Eve has not even taken a look at the menu.  
Oksana saves her the energy, saying something that sounds more expensive than eatable, and ushers him away.  
Eve watches as he takes secure steps towards the kitchen, and sighs.  
Now she is on her own.

“What do you think about the weather these days, Eve?”  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
“The weather,” she motions to the sky, “What do you think about it?”  
“Uhm, it’s okay,” Eve is lost.  
“It is okay, indeed,” Oksana nods her head and her fingers torturously graze the table. The sound is killing Eve, but she says nothing and lets her enjoy herself. Oksana stops, after a while.  
They wait for food, observing each other’s faces and not making any small talk.  
Eve does not want to chit chat.  
Eve wants answers, but the questions she just can’t bring herself to ask.  
She knows she should ask her about Bill, about things she’s done to Niko and her, about things she’s done to the animals… she wants to ask her about her past, though.  
How did your mother treat you?  
What happened to your dad?  
Why did you left that day without me, when I wanted so much to be with you?

The last question is danger.  
It is what Eve should never ask.  
It is what she thinks about when night gets so dark that she can let herself be true.  
That last time they’ve met, it was something else… 

_…Oksana let her guard down, just a little, just a second, so that no one could catch it, but Eve could.  
She saw her insecurity, her uncertainty, the weight on her slim shoulders, how she struggled within herself and then… _

They kissed. 

Eve remembers it like it was just yesterday.  
The darkness of the room is the one to blame for this sort of thought.

Judging by the look on Oksana’s face, she is thinking of something else, too.  
Her eyes are fixated on nothingness in inches of Eve’s face and she sits still, like a statue. What is it she may be thinking of?

“Do you think here has ever been a fire? With that amount of candles it is just dangerous…” of course.  
She nods when Oksana wants her to nod, letting her talk and just enjoying the sound of her fake British accent. It is strange, but at the same moment, really funny when she does it, and Eve wonders just how many times did she have to fake an accent? A lot, probably. 

“ _You just have to find me, again,_ ” she said, when they parted. 

Eve did not even try to. 

She had to go upstairs and untie Niko, she had to live through humiliation of his eyes, through the way he silently said all the things she needed to hear. “What did you do, Eve? What have you become?”  
She remembers putting on clothes, and driving to Kenny, so he could tell her that she was a psychopath to deal with Oksana alone, and she knew she was crazy.  
News spread fast and soon she was in investigation room with Carolyn, being asked stupid things and, “Why did not you contract us as soon as you got the first message?”  
Did she know why?She will never figure herself out, it seems.  
When she walked towards her house, the morning was just creeping behind the horizon. She let herself cry, for the rest of the day.  
Niko came by soon, with a pack of divorce papers, and she signed them all without question.  
He merely looked at her face.  
And then she was alone.  
The thoughts of suicide entered the damaged part of her brain, but she willed herself to live.  
Next morning, she was already at work, making small talk during coffee breaks and trying to find new friends to hangout with. As if anyone wants to hang out with an old loser like her.

She did not let herself think of Oksana. She did nothing to try and find her.  
Maybe this was why Oksana kept returning to her, kept driving her mad.  
Eve was just a pray, who maybe had a gun inside her purse, but still was pretty much unable to defend herself.  
She is only interesting when she gives a chase.

The waiter is back with their food, and, Eve admits, it looks fantastic. Oksana must have been here before, for she regards the food indifferently. Or maybe she is just sick of places like this. Or maybe she is just being her pure Villanelle-self.

They eat in silence, sometimes interrupted by Oksana making up some ridiculous stories about rare people that come into view, and it gets really funny and Eve laughs.  
Surprisingly, the dinner is going well.  
As if it is just a simple date and they don’t have any history between themselves. Or maybe they both just want something normal to enjoy, for a while.

The dessert comes, and Oksana is making her way through an enormous portion of cake, while Eve just looks at her.  
“Want some?”  
Her accent is back, which sends a wave of unknown longing through Eve’s body, and the gesture itself can make Eve fall for whatever game they are playing.  
“No, thank you, my stomach is full,” she replies. Oksana gives a look at her and then, with a thoughtful expression, slowly nods.  
The times goes by slowly, and yet, their evening comes to a close with the last bite Villanelle makes.  
The waiter comes up to them when Oksana raises her hand.  
“Can you give us the check, please?”  
Eve is nervous then, for the bill may be close to a LOT OF MONEY, and she does not have so much with her, but at least she has a gun in her purse, which is also stupid…  
“Don’t get nervous, baby,” Oksana is smug, “this one is on me.”

 

They are outside, and it gets really chilly. Wind whispers in Eve’s hair, and her arms shiver a little, but she tries to hide the goosebumps and all the signals of her weakness. She wears a simple blouse and a skirt, just a work outfit, so sue her for being a little cold, she works in the office!  
Oksana glances at her once or twice after they get out of the restaurant, but keeps her hands shuffled deep into her pockets. She walks ungraciously and a little bulky like this, but it manages to look cool, compared to Eve’s rushed steps.  
The night is still young, with the moon lightning up streets and the traffic reducing a lot.  
Eve looks around them, noticing a lot of things at once, but not letting them distract her from the only one important.  
Villanelle is a step ahead of her, like she remembered something upsetting and now tries to walk away, but something tied them up and she just can’t get any further.  
When they come close to some shallow alley, Oksana stops, abruptly, and turns her whole body to look at Eve.  
It is intense and also gentle, and that is not something Eve is ready for.

“Why did not you look for me?”  
She asks, like an upset child, whose mother left her.  
The lantern’s light dances on her smooth skin, and she looks small, even… vulnerable. “Remember, Eve it’s just a facade,” she tells herself over and over again, while her eyes get lost in everything that is Oksana.  
In the little hairs that managed to get out of well-secured braid, in her lips that are full and strictly pinned to each other… in her eyes, that do not have a soul behind them. Empty. That are the eyes of the predator, and it clicks something in Eve.  
“Remeber, Eve,” the voice inside her head is strong again, “this is nothing more than a mask.”  
“Why do you think I did not?”  
“You would have found me, then,” she says. “I was barely hiding, Eve. You did not even try,” she grimaces and her lips turn into a cute pout. “Why?”  
And she can't tell her the truth when she is like this. When they just had a perfect dinner, when she was so vulnerable or at the very least, tried to be, and she can't ruin it, the last remaining thing that gives her actual joy. She can't ruin it.  
She thinks of excuses, like, I had a lot of work to do, I did not know where to start, I was afraid.  
_Because I hate myself so much when I even dare to think of you._  
Because what you did was break me, and now I am useless, now I am shattered to pieces, and no one wants me like this, not even you.  
Because if I tried to find you, I would have never get over you, and I want so much to just forget you! Forget your smell, and your smirk, and I burned the clothes that you sent me, and I hate you for what you’ve done to me, but I also love you, oh my god, so much.

“Maybe once I wanted to be the mouse, and not the cat,” she says, and it makes Oksana laugh.  
“As if you’ve ever been a cat,” the smile on her face is genuine or as close to it as possible, and Eve wants desperately to be at home, wrapped in her blankets, with a cup of tea and a basket of popcorn, watching movies… with her.

They talk about national gallery and how the other day Oksana visited London Eye and the Tower of London, and Eve is happy that she enjoys staying in London.  
Villanelle tells her, that her flight to Paris is due tomorrow. 

Somewhere on the way it becomes so cold that Eve starts to shatter, and that is when Oksana takes off her jacket and lefts it to hang on the woman’s shoulders. She does so with an annoying look, and explains, that she just could not stand the sound.  
She became ruder, somehow, since the last time they’ve seen each other. 

 

The doorstep is at five feet distance, and that is when Oksana’s steps become visibly slower. They narrow the porch.

“It was good, seeing you and all,” Eve tells her, even though she did not plan to, but all plans can burn in hell. She clings to the jacket for dear life, for it is just impossibly cold outside, and wants too bad to go inside her house.  
Villanelle just watches her, intensely.  
“I should probably go, and uhh…” she starts taking the jacket off, but Oksana is quick to grab her hand and pull it away.  
They stare at each other and that is the perfect moment for a kiss, but the kiss won't happen. Not today. Not while Eve has a bit of control.  
Villanelle brings herself closer to the woman, and when her face is so near that she practically feels her breath on the cheek, Eve does the only rational thing she can think of.  
The kiss is planted solemnly on her cheek, and it feels all too hot to be near her, even though they’ve done things that were far worse than a kiss, but this is just _too much_.

Eve steps hurriedly away, and Oksana is still, waiting for more.  
“Is that… what?”  
“I have a three-date rule.”  
“What?” Oksana’s face turns angry. “Are you kidding me?”  
“That is what psychologists advice…”  
“I don't fucking care what they say!”  
“Well, I do,” Eve opens the door and hurries inside. “And I have a three-date rule, so see you then.”  
There is a series of loud banging on the door, after it, and Eve feels an extraordinary want to open it and let Oksana in, because she is leaving for Paris tomorrow and who knows when they’ll see each other again.  
Maybe she won't ever come back, because she’ll get caught and maybe someone will kill her or…  
She stops herself from thinking about it.  
The purse comes flying to the floor, and tries to find the TV remote.  
“THERE WILL BE NO MORE FUCKING DATES, EVE!” 

Somehow, she feels like a winner.  
And that feeling is worth everything.


	2. the second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was, for some unknown reason, very hard to write, and I don't like it one bit, so, ahhh, yeah, I'm not good in advertising things, just read. It is pure fluff, anyway, something a lot of us need after reading THat One WORk that is just pure suffer, and we all know what Im talking about.

_Be thankful._  
Eve is smiling at her colleague’s party invite. “It is so nice of you,” she says, and tries to add more gratitude to her voice.   
It gets lonely at her house now that Niko has moved out and she does not have any obsessions to entertain herself with. Purely existing is no fun at all.  
So when this woman asks her to come to her son’s birthday party, even though Eve does not like kids all that much, she goes straight to the toy shop and buys the most expensive looking remote control car… uh… If Eve were a ten year old boy, she’d be grateful, so.  
Wrapping up the gift goes wrong in all the ways it possibly could have gone wrong, and then Eve just goes back to that store and asks the girl that works there to do the wrapping. Now the present looks just wonderful.   
Eve is thankful she got invited, so. 

_Surround yourself with positive people._   
At the office, she now sits at the desk between these two girls that are like sunshine… beautiful, young and gracious. They ask Eve about her days, although sometimes they bring up hard topics like, “And is there any special one for you, Eve?”… And she is lost for answer.   
“Yeah, there is…”  
“But that special someone is just currently out of reach.”  
They look at her like she is a heartbroken loser, sometimes, with their eyes all watery, and Eve thinks it’s nice of them. Although, too dramatic for her liking. 

_Work on your relationships._   
She thought about calling Niko, but she just is not ready to make this step.  
Eve calls her parents, though, and they are really happy to hear her voice, even though they did not take the news of her divorce easily.   
“Niko is a really fine man,” her mother says, each time she calls, and Eve knows he is. That is why he'd be better off without her.  
Kenny drops by, sometimes, to check whether she’d done anything stupid, and awkwardly tries to bring up the *censored* topic.   
Eve does not let him, though.   
And he leaves, disappointed. 

_Try new things._  
Eve does not really want to talk about this one… Uhhh, no, she would not be blushing, she is a grown-up and it’s fine to use this kind of stuff…   
Though, no commentary.

 

Eve knows that no matter how many advice she follows, she would not be any happier. This thought is a bad one, and she does not let herself linger on it.  
She puts on make-up and gets into that one really cute dress she bought the other day, takes the nicely-wrapped present in her hands and searches for her keys.   
When they are finally found, she locks the door and smiles at the sky.  
“What a wonderful evening,” Eve thinks.  
She makes confident steps towards the gates and then… she stops.

“Wow, Eve, you should not have made such an effort,” Oksana says, with her eyes wondering around Eve’s body, not even a bit shy of her actions.   
She is looking so effortlessly beautiful, that for a moment, Eve is jealous of her, but then she scolds herself. “Don’t be stupid,” the woman tells herself, and looks away, back at the sky, to avoid further gawking.   
“What are you doing here?”   
“Oh? Don’t you remember that we are having a date?”  
“No, we’re not,” Eve looks at the clouds that are floating around and tries to calm herself down, “I have plans.”  
“Yeah, with me!” Oksana steps closer and in no time the scent of La Villanelle gets into her nose and makes her mind spin. _Fuck._ “You even bought me a present, wow!”   
When she sees the excitement in the girl’s eyes, she knows that there is no way she can get out of it.  
“Let me just call my friend, okay?”  
Oksana’s fingers fish the present out of Eve’s hands and she pays the woman no further attention, shaking the box and trying to figure out what’s inside.  
“Hello, Nancy, I can't make it, I’m so sorry, something came up, yes, of course, happy birthday to Jimmy…”

 

“Is it a doll?”  
“No.”  
“Hm, that’s fine, I hate dolls,” Oksana shrugs and they walk in silence. “You know, we had this game, _dochki materi_ , daughters and mothers, so, the other girls enjoyed it a lot, and I kind of always was left out, that made me feel really bad at a time… I was always out there, just watching kids have fun…”  
“Oksana, please, can you not? I don't want you making up sad stories,” Eve tugs at her elbow and Villanelle lets out a surprised noise.   
“It is very rude to interrupt,” Oksana says, and when the woman’s eyes pierce through her skin, quickly add, “okay-okay!”   
They are nearing crossroads and there is actually no way they’d be able to make it till the green light is still on, so they stop walking.  
The wind is grazing Eve’s skin not so delicately, and she would have probably felt a little bit cold, if Oksana was not eating her with her eyes.  
Her gaze slips onto all the places that are rude to stare at, but Eve lets her.   
She lets her eyes narrow, lets Oksana’s lip be bitten and lets her eyes roam.  
It sends shivers down her spine to be gawked at like this…   
Niko looked at her like she was a precious little thing, and never quite like that… Never with such a want in his eyes.  
There is a wave of pleasure in the pit of Eve’s stomach and she hates that it has such an impact on her. This is just plain rude and she should not enjoy it.   
But then Oksana sends her that one smirk that can make her drop the panties, and she knows, right then and there, that she has no escape. It will just be a matter of time.  
Their hands brush when they walk and this makes Eve’s stomach hurt. Oksana only lets out a little laugh at this. 

“Is it a weapon?”  
“Of course no, it’s not fine to give it to children!”  
“Uh, excuse you, but I think it’s perfectly normal. My dad gave me a knife on my eighth birthday!”  
“And look at you…”“Yeah, that’s the point, look at me, I’m fine!”  
“Of course.”

“Is it a…”  
“Just open it!”  
Oksana stops in her tracks.   
“What? No, it will ruin all the fun!”  
She looks hurt and her lower lips is curled into a cute pout, and Eve lets her continue. It is a wonder, but she enjoys herself.  
She likes the way Oksana speaks, with her face mirroring the emotions she would have felt if she could have felt any.   
Eve thinks about it all the time now.  
Not about the kills, or who the hell the Twelve are, or where does Oksana live now and what she wears and who she sleeps with… No. She thinks about that young beautiful girl - dressed up in expensive clothes, with professionally applied mascara and the wondrous smell coming off of her - feeling things. Anything.  
Does she feel sadness?   
Does she feel anger?   
Sometimes, she tries to remember that time when Oksana was, for the lack of any other appropriate word, raping her. She thinks about her hard gaze, her wide-opened eyes… Eve tries to remember just how much pain there was in her muscles, like she was hurting from the inside. She boiled with anger and it was caused by something else. Frustration with herself.   
As if she felt something she should not have.   
Maybe it was just Eve’s imagination playing tricks on her. Maybe, after all, Oksana felt nothing.   
The girl is still babbling something, and it is hard to imagine her - with her eyebrows moving and fingers excitedly knocking on the box - not feeling anything. 

“What’s on your mind?” Oksana asks, her feet shuffling and eyes averting from the present for a second, so she can give Eve some of her attention. She looks like a satisfied little child. It suits her.   
“I… nothing…” Eve shrugs, “Just thinking about where to take you.”  
“Oh, Eve, you can _take_ me anywhere… even here, I’m not picky.”  
“Jesus, for _food_!”  
“So you want to eat me out?”  
“Oh God, you’re such an ass,” Eve looks around. The streets are full of people that do not pay any attention to them, and this is nice, to feel like no one cares about her being with Oksana.   
Paranoia creeps beside her neck and, for a second, she thinks that this cute couple gives them a dirty look, but wills herself not to think about them too much.  
Oksana and her can pass for an aunt and a niece, or maybe they can be colleagues… She should stop this trail of thoughts.   
They are exactly what other people can think of them.  
Eve sighs and her gaze wanders through their surroundings.   
Her eyes catch the sight of a pizza cafe, and, remembering that Oksana _will eat anything_ , she walks them towards the place.   
There is some excited noise coming out of the girl’s mouth, and it is really cute, though Eve still shushes her.   
No point in bringing any more attention to them. 

They order three large pizzas, and they are all unique in their own way, which Eve dislikes because when it concerns food, she is a conservatist. But Oksana is existed and that is enough for now.  
She plays with her hands and Eve really thinks she should open the present and just play with the toy, but she keeps her mouth shut.  
“How have you been?”  
“Oh, fine, did not have any work lately,” she shrugs and it makes something warm up in Eve's stomach. “You look so pleased, I did not say I had not had fun with my hobbies, though.”  
“Well, I have not had any texts from you, so it’s safe to assume you did not.”“Yeah, I grew bored of it,” the girls hands are so fidgety it is incredibly annoying, but Eve wills herself not to pay much of attention to it. When she notices that it does not disrupt the woman, she stops. “When will the food come!?”

Watching Oksana eat is now one of Eve’s favorite things. She is at ease, her fingers delicately holding the slice, and her mouth slowly savoring it. Her lips come in contact with the slice again and again, and her teeth are now visible, and she bites down… and… whoah…   
Eve should probably eat, too, only looking is just creepy. 

“Do you like it?” Eve asks, when her stomach is full, while Oksana does not look a bit finished.   
“Uh, yes, love it!”  
“Nice,” they sit close to the window, so Eve just stares out of it and watches passers-by. There are so many people outside, and it should not be surprising, but somehow it is. Eve has been watching life through the window of her office, of her house, of her car… She never actually had life… Had she?  
And now, she only needs to turn her head around, and she’ll see it, she will see the reason _why_ her life was finally exciting, why her blood ran cold and hot, and why she woke up with something else to hold on to.  
She talked with a specialist about it, talked her whole life through, spent time and money and whole lots of effort on this. But no matter how much the lady told her about taking her life under control and blah blah blah… she knew nothing could help.   
Except for this little psychopath in front of her, that managed to graciously eat pizza (!) and look hot in anything she wore.   
Well, Oksana can rock whatever outfit, that is just common knowledge. 

She spends a minute just thinking about her.  
She have not let herself do this since their last encounter, usually scolding herself when her thoughts went wild.   
Sometimes at night, when loneliness crept into her bedroom and kissed her goodnight, she would dream of her, of the long legs and her sharp jawline… She’d imagine Oksana lying next to her, with her perfume clouding Eve’s thinking…   
She turned away from the window and was now looking intensely at the girl.   
Her breasts.   
Visible through her thin shirt.  
Kinda big and attention seeking.  
 _She can give them as much of her attention as needed._

 

_Whoah._

 

“Uh, I need to use the bathroom,” she stands up while Oksana gives her a nod and moves towards the door with WC sign.   
It is deserted, thankfully.   
She looks in the mirror and there is an old woman, with her mascara melted in some places and eyes full of terror.   
“Fuck,” she tries not to think too much about it. Why can't she just _not_ be like this?!  
Is it Oksana who went crazy or is it her? 

She sprays her face with cold water, fucking whatever rules there are about not doing it with make-up on. That is a relief, for a second, but Eve can already feel her eyes hurting because ink got into them, and now the rules are fucking her, instead.   
Trying to get ink out of her eye, she fails at it, miserably, the situation only worsens, and her fingers are doing all the wrong things like poking and scratching… And when she feels the death from that incredulous pain creep behind her back, there is a gentle hand wrapping around hers, and a soft voice mumbling, “Let me help you.”

It hurts to open her eyes, but she does, nonetheless, frightened to see Oksana there.  
“What?”  
She mirrors the surprise and looks back at Eve.  
“What are you doing here?!”  
“Uh, I thought that the bathroom was a code for something _more_ ,” she shrugs, “I obviously did not think it meant you having a mental breakdown.”“How can there be another meaning for “I need to use the bathroom”?!”  
“Once, I had…”  
“No, just don’t say it, okay?”  
“Yeah, fine.”  
Eve’s eye is aching so bad she just can't think of anything else. She closes it, and stumbles on her feet.   
“Can I, please?” Oksana’s hand flies to her face and she does something magical and then everything goes back to normal…  
When Eve is done blinking and the image is not as blurry anymore, she can see a satisfied smirk on the girl’s face. “Now, do you mind if we…?” Villanelle wiggles her eyebrows, and the hand that has moments ago saved her from a terrible death is now lying on her shoulder, slightly tugging on it, so to bring the woman closer.  
Eve sends that said hand flying away with a loud smack.   
“No, I’m not having sex in the bathroom and totally not on our _second_ date!”

They return to their seats in silence. 

This time, Eve pays for the food, and even if the total is way more than she spends in a week, she does not pay much of attention to it. It was fun.

 

The date is not over, though, because, apparently, Oksana wants an ice-cream, and they wander through the department stores, searching for that exact one flavor that she wants.   
Eve wants to be annoyed with her, but there is something so warm about it. Just shopping. Feels nice.  
Sometimes she thinks that Oksana will murder someone who bumps into her, but, thankfully, she does not. Her eyes are solemnly fixated on the counters, and it is very cute in its own Oksana way.  
However, they spend too much time lingering in this one shop and irritation seeps into Eve’s body.  
“Can you just buy whatever?”  
The look on Oksana’s face is enough of an answer. She can’t. 

 

It is three department stores later and Oksana is licking her ice-cream, her face all seduction and pleasure. There is something in her eyes that tells Eve that the ‘shopping’ was all for a mere purpose of ruining her mood, but she does not let Oksana win.   
She smiles at her, and the girl smiles back.

“So, are you going to open the present or not?”  
Oksana is quiet for a minute, thinking it through and swinging her legs while they sit on the bench in the deserted section of the park. The lightning is poor, and Oksana’s face is barely visible, although, somehow, it makes her look even better. Adds mystery.   
“Hm," she is deep in thought, her eyes unmoving and tongue working on ice-cream, “No, it is more fun while it’s wrapped,” Oksana says in the end, “I will always have a present this way.”  
“Sounds smart,” she smiles at her, although she does not understand it at all.  
“You think it’s weird. You think I’m a psycho,” Oksana turns her head, and in that moment, Eve sees the challenge in her eyes.   
“I don't think so, Oksana,” the girl shivers from hearing her name, “You are… more than this.”  
There is silence that follows, the lightning seems to visibly darken. No one passes them by, as if they are the only people left in the world, and it is both a relief and a promise of danger. There is no one to see what they will do, and it is exactly what scares Eve and turns her on.   
In Eve’s head, the music is playing gently, some melody stuck inside her brain.   
She lingers on it, lets herself be enveloped by the sound, lets it rule over her, so that she would not do anything stupid. It is like meditation, in all honesty.   
Eve should think about it and stop paying attention to the girl’s lips, full and pink… Did she apply any lipstick or is it her natural color?   
It has probably all been chewed away when she ate pizza.   
A tongue licks these lips and Eve’s thinking is clouded.   
Her eyes spare a glance to Oksana's, excitement filling her body, and she is about to go for a kiss, because she will explode if she does not do it.   
There is fire in the pit of her stomach and her hands are moist, and she is not thinking straight…  
She leans in.  
“Do you think that the taste of human’s pee changes depending on what we eat?”

 

“What?”  
“Uh, Eve, you look a little bit dazed,” there is a radiant glow coming off of her and her features look as relaxed as Eve has ever seen, and this only worsens everything, somehow, “Is something wrong?”  
She seems genuinely concerned, although there is this little spark of satisfaction in her eyes, and that is what gives her out.  
“You are just an ass, I’m _never kissing you_!”   
Oksana’s eyebrows fly high and she opens her mouth to say something in defense, but Eve is already standing up.  
“You know, it is awfully late for me, I have to head home,” she says and takes sure steps towards her house.   
“You are walking in opposite direction,” Eve hears Oksana say, but does not pay much attention to it. 

Her head is raised up high and her arms are swinging from side to side, and that is how she finds herself in the creepiest parts of this park. She tries not to think too much about what hides in the bushes or on the trees, and just walks.   
She does not have a gun with her, though.

Even if maniac decides to attack her, she would not be an easy target. 

If she turns her head, she’ll see Oksana shadowing her. This is very thoughtful and cute of her, and Eve bits down her smile.   
She hears footsteps closing on her, and lets the girl catch up.

“You know it is really unsafe to do such a thing?”  
“Hm, why?”   
“There are maniacs all over the parks at such a time!”  
Eve laughs out loud.   
There is something so freeing about being with Oksana these days.   
As if she can finally be who she really is. Reckless. Adventurous. Have she ever taken this path home? Uh, no! This is so much fun.  
Also, Oksana telling Eve to be cautious of maniacs is just…   
She laughs again.

 

Their hands brush while they walk, and sometimes Eve catches Oksana looking at her, but other than this, nothing happens.   
The present is securely held under Villanelle’s armpit, and when Eve looks at it, she is actually upset that Oksana won't open it.   
That is a really nice car.  
Little Jimmy would have liked it a lot.  
She’ll have to come up with some great cover-up story, and maybe she should ask for Oksana’s help in that one, since the girl is a pro at this, but she does not.  
No point in boosting her ego.

There is a split second when Eve wonders whether Oksana brought a gun, or a knife, or anything like that with her.   
She looks unarmed, but maybe she hides something in her boot… Eve wishes she could undress her and see it for herself.  
Yeah, she’d totally do it out of sheer safety measures.   
Maybe she’ll also do it to look at Oksana’s scar. It must be fading by now.   
Pure interest.   
Nothing sex-related, uh, no.

Oksana is chewing her lip and her eyes are gleaming in the moonlight, which sounds a lot like cheap romantics, but! It! Is! True!  
Eve watches her try on faces, she watches how she pulls a smile she saw one woman wearing, and then she is pouting like a child, and this must be very entertaining for both of them, because no words are exchanged.   
Eve tries to do something like that and mimic an old lady that is grumpily crossing the road, and when the said lady notices it, she lets out some ugly sound and waves her fist in the woman’s face.  
Oksana laughs at this, and it comes out throaty, as if she means it, as if she actually founds it hilarious.   
Real emotions look nice on her, and Eve does not feel bad for a second. 

Birds are singing at the distance and the shallow melody is back in Eve’s head.   
They are on her doorstep, by the way, and the night is still young and…  
“Do you want to have a cup of tea?”   
Oksana’s eyes widen in surprise and she takes a step back.   
She looks young and uncertain, and Eve just wants to wrap her in her arms and secure from whatever happened to her and…  
“My uncle be really mad if I don't come home…” she whispers, eyes glided to the floor. “He’d say I am a naughty girl and beat me up,” Oksana worries her lower lip. “I promised not to be naughty…”  
“You are just terrible,” the shit-eating grin on Oksana’s face tells her, that the girl knows it.   
Eve fiddles with her keys. The door cracks open and she really wants to go home and take a shower, or something, because she is plainly exhausted from all this walking. “Go, go home, see your uncle,” her foot makes a step inside the house and she can almost feel herself relax.   
“But I want a kiss…!”  
Another foot, that clearly does not belong to Eve, makes a step forward, and now they are too close for any coherent thinking.   
“You ruined my mood.”  
“Oh, did I?”   
She licks her lips and her body presses hard onto Eve’s, and the distance between them becomes non-existent.   
Eve tries to pull away, but Oksana won't let her, and she is just trapped between the door and the psycho, and she thinks she has more chances with the door…  
Villanelle’s head is lowering, slowly, and now her nose is poking Eve’s cheek. There is a pleasant sensation that goes through her body, as if she was struck with a lightning bolt, and her heart is now racing, and her lips go dry and she licks them, and then…  
There is a light kiss on her cheek, and Oksana pulls away. 

“Good night, Eve,” she says, in her best British accent, so loud that Eve think everyone in a mile distance would hear her, and walks away.   
The present is still in her hands.  
Somehow, these tricks only amuse Eve more, and she lightly laughs, looking in Villanelle’s direction.   
“Good night, Oksana.”  
That night, she can barely fall asleep, haunted by the dreams of what is going to come on their third date. Yeah, well, someone is definitely going to _come_.


	3. The third

It’s Saturday, a simple, ordinary Saturday evening.  
Eve is not waiting for any guests to arrive.  
When she comes from work, she slips into her pajamas and lays on the couch.   
The TV remote is in her hand, and she lazily navigates through different channels, bored out of her mind.  
It’s her free day tomorrow, yet she does not have any positive feelings concerning that fact. Villanelle still has not come for the third date… and it’s already been _two weeks_! Third date meant sex, so she had no reason to put this off.

Eve looks at the door, every now and then. During the first week she made an effort to look nice, put on her make-up and waited for her date to arrive. Now she was in no mood to ruin any of her cosmetics for nothing.   
There is a film on TV, and she just lets it play as a background noise, while her mind is elsewhere.   
It is with Villanelle, _Oksana_ , thinking about what she is up to. Maybe she is killing someone right now. Maybe she is eating at some fancy restaurant. Maybe she is having a random hook-up. Okay, but she can also be preparing for their date.  
Another look at the door and a desperate sigh.   
She is not coming. 

It’s past midnight when Eve is too bored of the film, so she tuns it off, goes to her bedroom and falls asleep.

The last thought she has is about Oksana, passing her household by, thinking that Eve deserves suffering.

 

Another week goes by.  
It’s Saturday evening, again.  
Eve thinks if Oksana will ever turn up, then she either does it today or never.  
The thought of latter terrifies her, but she does not loose her hope.   
The TV is turned on, the sound muffled, and Eve thinks whether to dress up or not.  
She’d be such a loser, if Oksana does not come.   
She felt like a total loser for these three weeks.  
Almost a month!   
It feels like forever.   
Every day she spends entertaining herself with the thought of Oksana showing up on her porch, with a big bucket of roses and a mouth full of apologies. She will wrap Eve in her arms, kiss her and say, “Oh, my dear Eve, I can't survive another day without you! I quit the job, I won't ever kill again, I’ll do it all for you, my love!”  
With each day her imaginary Villanelle only becomes more vanilla, and sometimes, when Eve sobers up, the woman feels sick to her stomach. 

Maybe she should dress up. Just to feel a lit bit nicer. Just for herself.   
She exchanges her work clothes for more casual attire, and then undresses herself, feeling too stupid in her H&M jeans. Yeah, she will definitely impress Oksana with these. 

The mirror watches her in mocking silence, showing her just how imperfect she is. _“You have a nice body.”_  
Eve can’t see what Oksana likes in her.   
She grazes her skin with her hand, smoothing the wrinkles to make it better, but in the end, Eve only gets irritated. “What will become of me after five years? Ten?”  
She is a divorced, middle-aged woman, with a job that bores her out of mind and an ugly fixation on psychopaths. The thought of herself living a life of solitude does not excite her at all. 

The sound of rain starts coming through the walls, and Eve comes to the conclusion, that Villanelle would not go out with her in such a bad weather. All the blame for the girl ditching her could be lifted from her time-worn shoulders and put on the bad weather.  
One look out of window confirms that the weather is definitely too nasty, even for her melancholy.  
A grey T-shirt is pulled through her head, and she does not bother with trousers.   
Taking steps back to the kitchen is exhausting, and Eve has surely deserved a good drink for such a horrible day.

The wine is in her glass, but she sips it without much pleasure. There is something disappointing in drinking alone. Makes her feel even lonelier than usual.   
The TV is the only sound except for rain that tears the silence of the living room.   
She gulps down the remnants of her glass and stands up to get herself more, when there is a slight knock on the door.

She is in her panties and a fucking T-shirt that has been in her wardrobe for more than ten years now.  
If it’s Villanelle, that psychopath could not have chosen a better time to show up. 

The door flies open, and Oksana is, indeed, outside, with a fashionable little pink umbrella covering her form from the rain. She is dressed up like a girl next-door, in a very cute yellow dress, that got wet while she was walking. There is a brown handbag thrown on one of her shoulders, and a bright smile on her curled lips.   
She does not say anything.  
Her gaze travels from Eve’s wild semblance of a hairstyle to her naked legs, but her eyes do not betray a shade of humor. Oksana looks as untouched as always.  
“Come in,” Eve gestures her to the house, and the polite smile gets wider on the girl’s face. She is in combat boots, which is the only thing that betrays a hint of danger in her.  
“Maybe she has an axe in her bag, and she will tie me to the bed and murder,” runs a thought in her mind, which she quickly dismisses. There is, undoubtedly, something odd in Villanelle, but she can't pick it up just yet. 

Oksana takes her boots off, and Eve is really thankful for that, because it would have been too tiring to clean up the mess afterwards.   
The umbrella dangles in her hands, and with a soft “let me”, Eve takes it away from the girl.   
The handbag looks light, and Oksana leaves it be near her shoes.   
Now she is just a twenty-something girl, with insecurities weighing her down and a brisk of shyness reddening her cheeks.   
That is an act and Eve is totally not buying a second of it.

They look each other in the eye, and for a moment, Eve is sure she sees something in there, but in the end, she thinks it was just her reflection.   
Oksana neither blinks, nor avoids her gaze, and somehow manages to not challenge her in the process, which is so unlike her. There is no fight in her shoulders, in her slightly curled spine and all in her just screams innocence. Eve should not let her guard down. 

There are now two glasses of wine on the kitchen counter, and Eve offers one to Oksana. She makes a little sip, but other than this, does not drink from it at all.   
She is awfully quiet, and it is both disturbing and relieving, considering the fact that she did not make any harassing comments about Eve’s clothes, or the lack of them. 

“So, it was surprising,” she laughs, her fingers fiddling with the glass, “You know, to see you on my porch in such a weather,” continues, for the lack of verbal response on other side.   
“I like getting wet from time to time,” Oksana says, tongue licking her lips. The raindrops terrorizing her windows are getting louder and louder, with every beat driving her mad.   
She supposes they should do something else than just… whatever they are doing right at the moment.   
“Want to watch a movie?”   
There is a flicker of that _something_ in her eyes yet again, and she smiles an unsure but pretty much natural smile.   
“Of course.”

It seems Oksana is not at all picky today.  
She is silently observing, while Eve tries to choose a movie from all the DVDs she has stacked. There are some from Niko, Star Wars from Kenny, or these that Elena brought with her once when she came over.   
‘Kill Bill’ is the one her hands bump into, and she tries to calm down her rising anxiety. Oksana’s hand takes the disk away and thrashes it into the wall.   
The sad smile on her face looks terrifyingly generous.   
Eve still has not decided on a movie.   
“Let’s watch this,” a finger points to the ‘Sound of music’ DVD and Eve is really surprised, but does not let it show. She nods. 

When Eve’s done microwaving pop-corn, they start the movie, and, as unexpectedly as it might have been, the sounds of music fill the room. Raindrops become dim in comparison.   
They sit on the couch, a meter away from each other, and Eve is covered in goosebumps and shivers slightly, the coldness of this summer evening not being something she actually enjoys.   
And, in all honesty, Eve wishes Oksana would not play such a schoolgirl today, and just grab her in her hands.   
A final look on the girl’s excited face tells her, that her psychopath is well-aware of what she’s doing and she is not going to back up.   
Well, neither is Eve.

Fifteen minutes pass, with them chewing on pop-corn, and Oksana not looking at her once.  
The movie is a good watch, and Eve should seriously consider just sticking her gaze to it and not letting that girl win, but she can’t.  
Her eyes follow Oksana’s every movement, the way her jaws clenches when she chews and how she narrows her eyes when there is some detail on the screen she wants to discern.   
And Eve is bored out of her mind. There is no more pop-corn left in her bowl, while Oksana is not even half-way done. She is jealous. She should go and make some more.  
Eve stands up and Oksana does not even stir. Fuck her.

When she gets back to the couch, she sits on a way smaller distance than before. It does not even get her a glance from the girl, but she knows that Oksana has noticed. She is a fucking professional killer, she must notice these kinds of things.   
Ten minutes later, and the girl has finally emptied her bowl.   
“Let me,” she says, taking it from her hands. Oksana’s head is turned to her direction now, and she is such a good actor, she could well enough get famous in Hollywood if she wanted to. “I will get you some more.”  
“Oh, thank you, but I’m fine, actually,” the girl smiles, and Eve is left lingering in the middle of the room with a bowl in her hands.   
She puts it in the sink and gets back.

There is no distance between them now.

Oksana is not bothered by it, at all.   
Well, then.   
Eve chews on the remains of her pop-corn in mocking silence. 

A hand is not so accidentally thrown on Oksana’s shoulders. There is nowhere to put it, so.   
The girl is not amused by it, her gaze fixated on the screen, and Eve is not really bothered, either. She will do whatever she wants.   
She hopes it is not raping.   
Well, can you really rape someone who has already raped you?   
Eve sighs.Her actions do not feel as good now, when she had this thought. 

The movie goes on, and somewhere in the middle, sleep-deprived Eve’s organism really wants to drift to the nothingness… Her head suddenly bumps into Oksana’s.   
“Uh, sorry!”  
“Don’t worry,” the girl smiles.   
This plan did not work out either. 

She does not try anything after this. 

Finally, the movie finishes, and the titles show.   
Eve thinks it is the worst movie she has ever watched, and not because of the movie itself, but because of this girl, who drove her mad in the process.  
Her arm is still slung on Oksana’s shoulders.   
She takes it back. 

“I had a very nice time,” Oksana says, and there is nothing wrong with her face, but something is terribly wrong. Oh, is she telling the truth? Her features are not being controlled by her brain at all, it seems, and she is just at ease. Simple. Non-threatening.   
“Yeah, me too,” it is hard to talk with her when she is like that. Just her. Without anything else. Maybe it is a very well put mask, too. Eve could care less. Oksana stirs on her place and looks like she is about to stand up. “So, are you going already?”  
“Do you want me to stay?”

“Ye-… Uh, yes, I do.”

 

They are sipping on wine, again in the kitchen.   
The lightning is not the best, for some of the bulbs burned out and Eve, being the best host ever, did not bother getting them changed. Oksana looks good, though.   
Her dress dried up while they watched, and now she is carefree, as if nothing is weighing her down. “So, what should we do?”   
A simple shrug of slim shoulders is the only answer she gets.   
Well, they have a lot of options. They can play bridge… they can watch another movie… have sex on the kitchen counter and then on the couch, in bedroom, in shower…  
“Uh,” she sips some wine again, “so, did you get caught up in the rain?”  
“Yes,” a gentle nod, “but I looked up the weather and was prepared for it,” she smiles, as if it is amusing somehow. “Did you get caught up in the rain?”   
“Uh, sorry, what?”

“Then why are you so wet?” 

Her face is emotionless for a minute, and then she laughs, wholeheartedly, and Eve’s good old Villanelle is back, which she could not be more thankful for.   
Uneasiness is broken with that joke, that is _actually the truth, but shush!_. And Eve gets back to normal again.  
They have this moment of after-laughter, when the sound is dying in both of their throats, but the fun still has not washed from their faces.   
Eve fills their glasses with wine, again.

She must have got really drunk, somehow, only two or three _or who cares how many_ glasses in. Eve feels powerful, and this power is exhausting her, because she can't use it on anyone, and she really wants to. She wants to pine Oksana to the bed and fuck her hard.   
She wants to savor her with her mouth, so there'd be no Villanelle left on Earth anymore.   
She want to kiss her, she wants to kiss her, _she wants to kiss her_.

“Uh, Eve, are you alright?”  
There is something in her voice, so genuine, that it feels like the softest of kisses itself. Eve is totally drunk.  
Thankfully, she is not in her rage stadia of drunkness.   
Otherwise, she would not be looking at Oksana like a love-sick fool, while her head felt too heavy to be held in the air.   
Uh, she most certainly ruined their date.   
“Yeah, Im good,” she whispers, trying to sober up, but her thinking is clouded. She slips from her seat and almost falls to the ground, but is caught in the middle. “Your hands are veryyy strong,” is more of a moan than a whisper, and she would have felt shame if she could feel anything other than excitement.   
She is, then, carefully put into Oksana’s embrace, and carried somewhere. Judging by the way they move, it is up, to the bedroom, and Eve is very impressed by her strength. Also, _turned on_  
When she is put on some fluffy surface, her eyes finally open, to reveal a slightly amused Oksana’s face.   
Her hand caresses Eve’s face and with it, she gets back up.  
“I’ll close the door,” she promises, making slow steps towards the exit.  
Eve wants her to stay, she needs her to stay, be here, with her, she can't just do it to her… and.  
“Hey,” green eyes look at her with softness she never expected to see, “Are you sure?”  
In all honesty, there was nothing Eve ever was more sure about.  
“Please.”

Oksana does not take her dress off when she gets to the bed. She is seemingly uneasy with this decision, but, otherwise, complines and just stares into the ceiling. Sometimes her gaze travels to Eve’s face. Sometimes stays fixated on other things.   
Eve simply stares at her.  
She wants to kiss her.  
Her lips are desperate to, and she has a lip-ache, she surely needs to…  
Eve must have crossed the distance between them, for now her face is an inch away from Oksana’s.  
The girl does not ask anything, but the question is in her eyes.   
She answers it with a floppy, yet very emotional embrace of their lips. 

It is just that, not a kiss, but an embrace, an exchange of emotion, and she knows that Oksana can't feel any, but there is something. There is the wetness of her mouth, the heat from her lips and their teeth bust into each other not so carefully, but Eve is so eager it all dims in comparison.  
Her hand travels to Oksana’s body, more out of mere need, because there is no other way she does not crush her, but also because she wants to be closer. Yes, only because she wants to be closer.  
Skin on skin feels like electricity, and lightnings, and fire, and explosions… She kisses her deeper, with her tongue now sailing the deal between them, some unspoken treaty, something, something, something.  
She wants it to last forever. She needs it to last forever.  
Eve catches her breath and leans in again, with her lungs burning and screaming at her for doing so, but she just can't tear herself from Oksana.   
When the girl slightly moves her head to the side, in pure need of breathing, she lets her mouth roam on her neck, search for all the places that will bring more pleasure to the girl.   
There is a lack of emotion on Oksana’s side, her hands do not touch Eve, her lips do not initiate contact again, but there is _something_.  
Eve slows down, just a bit.   
“Is it okay?”   
Oksana is surprised by the question, but she nods.   
“Yes.”

They kiss again.  
Slower, this time.   
Exploratory.   
It is more of a slow dance, than anything else.   
Waltz.   
Tongue on tongue, moving in a rhythm of their heartbeat…   
It remains purely romantic, until Eve’s hand starts roaming and bumps into that one place that is very attention-seeking of her hand.  
Oh, a breast.  
It feels strange to be holding it, stranger to caress it and squeeze it, but it is a very nice feeling, and it warms up Eve’s body, and…  
There is a small hitch of breath, the smallest of all, entirely invisible, but Eve noticed it.   
It must be affecting Oksana, too.   
She squeezes harder, and her body fills with want, and now that she has Oksana underneath her, it feels like she owns the world.   
It feels like solving the nightmare of a case, like winning in a lottery, like getting a driver license.   
Her tongue is moving faster now, the need to savor once again present.   
Her body manages to throw itself fully on Oksana, and now her T-shirt and the dress are the only thing separating their bodies.   
“I hate clothes,” she exclaims, when her mouth is no longer busy, and Oksana just nods, but her hands are securely laying on the bed.  
Eve grabs the hem of her shirt and tosses it away.   
They are kissing, again, and the wet noises fill the room, and if only Eve could put them on recorder, then she’d make it her ringtone, and she is not even kidding, this is her favorite sound, ever.   
She is only in her bra and panties, and Oksana is fully clothed, which is unfair, but also, if she does not want to take her clothes off, totally fine.   
The texture of the dress is so nice to touch, she is almost fine with it.   
_Almost_.   
They break the kiss.   
“Can I?”  
One intense, unbreakable eye-contact later, and the dress is, with a lot of force from both sides, slung over Oksana’s head and tossed to the corner of the room.   
Eve feels her insides burn.  
This is a primal level of desire, the one she saw in movies, read about in books but never experienced herself.   
Her mouth is back on the skin, exploring new territory like Christopher Columbus explored the secret land of America. It is magical.   
Feels a lot like Christmas, hence that it’s summer.   
It seems that something wild has awoken in Oksana, too, and now the hands are put on her back, and Eve would let her do anything, but…  
“Uh-uh,” she pines the hands back to the covers thrown without much care on her bed. “No, you see, I am on top, and that means…”  
Whatever meaning there was is now lost in Eve’s mouth. Her whole world spins, and she is now pinned to the bed, with hands gripping her hard, but not hard enough to leave a bruise.   
If Eve feels pain, it is lost in a wave of pleasure, from Oksana’s hungry mouth on hers, and her hips bucking into her core… Was sex supposed to always be that good?  
It is a lost battle, already, Eve knows it, but she still tries to escape the death grip of these hands. These hands killed people.   
The thought makes her wetter, and it is something she absolutely should not feel, but at the same moment, she can't feel anything other than that.   
A moan escapes her throat when Oksana sucks on her collarbone, and she only gets louder as the girl moves down, and it is a lot to take, and she is already wet enough so that puddle between her legs may be mistaken for a Black Sea…   
“Please, Oksana, please…”  
She does not really know what she is begging for, but she keeps repeating these words, like a mantra, and she gets answered by God himself, it seems.   
The bra slips from Oksana’s shoulders.  
Her breasts are on full-display.   
Eve wants to kiss them, touch them, do anything, but her arms are being held and she can’t… She can't take it anymore.   
“Please…!”  
Oksana does not really bother to be careful with her clothes.   
She tears the bra apart, and then it comes to her panties, and if she was not turned-on before…  
“God!”  
Oksana smirks at her from the above, and she is really beautiful, sexy, and all the things combined into one being… She is a Goddess, no less. With the power to take lives.   
Eve does not care about any weapons now.   
The sting of kisses is enough of a weapon itself. 

Oksana is deliberately slow, now, though.   
She knows it irritates the hell out of Eve, but she just plays with her, like a killer whale plays with its prey.   
Eve has no power to fight it.  
The hot mouth is on her breast now, and she needs a relief desperately, but the relief is being denied to her.  
Oksana is smirking, and she feels the corners of her lips widen on her skin.   
She moves down, just a bit.   
A little more, and…  
There is a hand between her legs, cupping her core. Hard. She winces, but the pain is also a relief.   
A finger slips inside of her without further warning, and with it she moans, her spine curving like an arc.   
Oksana’s mouth leaves her skin and now her eyes are staring at Eve’s face.   
The last thing she sees before she collapses into an orgasm is these green eyes piercing right through her.

 

It is three minutes of hard breathing and inner cursing, when Eve comes to her senses. Oksana is right there, beside her, eyes open wide and pink lips pulled into a thin line, that somehow, manages to look like a smile.  
She is beautiful.  
Eve is exhausted, but she wants another round.   
The heaviness of her head is to be blamed on alcohol, and the slight itchy pain between her legs on Oksana, but otherwise, she is fine.  
Her hand caresses the girl’s cheek, and she wishes there was more light in the room, so she could see her better.  
Eve leans in and kisses her, turning them over so that she is on top.  
Oksana is beneath her, curious and not stoping her from anything.   
A kiss is planted on her neck, collarbone… She tries to be as gentle as she possibly can, out of sheer spite, because Oksana was torturing her before and she can torture her, too…   
But all the spite seeps aways, and she is alone with her craving, and she just lets it lead her.   
Her hands travel on the girl’s skin, and it is so smooth, like silk.   
She does not remember her skin ever being so… Her fingers find something, just at the pit of her stomach, and this is _the scar_.  
They both hold their breaths.  
“Does it still hurt?” - “No.”

It is easy to collide with Oksana, to have your bodies unite into all of the different shapes and sizes, until you are just one.   
She has never felt so ecstatic from giving.   
Her mouth is on Oksana’s skin, and she drifts lower and lower, until she is at the place where she is most vulnerable.   
Eve kisses her, gets the taste, and she knows that she will be forever drawn to it.   
Oksana does not let out much of a sound, but, somehow, there is no need for her to be loud.  
Eve understands it all just well enough without anything.  
The only indication that orgasm hit her, is a hand tugging on Eve’s shoulder and telling her to stop.  
Oksana does not look exhausted, her muscles are relaxed and, Eve is sure, the girl can easily run a marathon just after this.   
There is one odd thing about her, though.  
And Eve only figures that out now.

 

Villanelle - a murderer of her best friend, a person, who ruined her life, and got her divorced with a man who truly loved her - is happy.   
And the happiness suits her very well.

They lay naked in bed for a while, exchanging quiet words about the movie they just watched, and their favorite colors, and how Villanelle has, actually, opened the present when she got home, and really enjoyed it.  
And then, when the girl is busy telling her something, she sends her one last look, to make sure she is still there, and drifts to sleep. 

 

When morning comes, Oksana is gone, but there is a whisper of her presence everywhere, and when Eve takes a sip of her coffee, she swears she tastes Villanelle on her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not like this chapter, either :)


End file.
